21 June 2010, 6:45 pm
The sweat dripped off the man's forehead, but that was perfectly understandable in the Marrakesh heat. However one thing that wasn't understandable is why he was running in the first place. He stopped for a second to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipe the beads of sweat from his brow. He took a deep breath and continued on his flight from an unknown pursuer. He dodged traffic as he fled across the street. He could hear the car horns honking in protest but that was currently the least of his worries. He slipped his hands into his emerald green robe checking to make sure the all so important folder that he had placed there earlier was still secured attacked. He turned a corner into the market. Suddenly he was surrounded by massive crowds of tourists and locals alike. Pushing and shoving he maneuvered through the mobs. Exotic smells filled the air. The sounds of people buying and selling objects was particularly loud. Keeping his head down he worked his way around the kiosks and stands. However this was not his final destination. He picked up the pace of his frantic run and slipped out of the market. He continued on running like a guilty bank robber. He fled down a street lined with hotels and restaurants. He slipped into a tiny alleyway between two restaurants. He jumped over garbage cans and thought that he was finally safe but stopped. Ahead was a chain link fence. He knew it was to late to turn back. He hurled himself on the fence and began to climb it. He was almost to the top when he heard a bang and a sudden intense pain appeared in his leg. He fell to the ground gasping in pain. He looked up to see a women dressed all in black carrying the very gun that had shot him. "Nice Try," she said her voice not having the slightest tone of empathy in it. "But better luck next time." She bent over and slipped her hand into the mans robe and pulled out the folder. Then she disappeared out of the alleyway and back onto the day lit street. She left the man to die. Crying out in the pain the man lay there a inky maroon puddle appearing from his wound. He knew he had failed. It was only a matter of time until this mistake became much worse.... Read More »
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